The sweat strikes back
by Shazirah
Summary: ObiWan gets lost in the desert, has trouble with his sweaty armpits and meets a mysterious someone- r&r please!
1. Default Chapter

A/N: This story was written by me and my sister Nanyrah about two months ago. Please leave a review in the box below. Any flames are welcome!  
  
  
  
1 The sweat strikes back  
  
By Shazirah & Nanyrah  
  
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...  
  
It is a time of galactic unrest.  
  
The young Jedi Anakin Skywalker has died to to a mysterious disease. This causes Queen Amidala's displeasure. The Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi has been sent on a mission, given to him by the secret service. He has to investigate the secret construction project of the surpreme chancellor Palpatine.  
  
Meanwhile, Jar Jar Binks is in mortal danger. The spirit of the evil Sith lord DARTH MAUL is continually chasing him, to take revenge for his failure in Theed. Jar Jar, despairing, rushes to Coruscant on his starship, to beseech the Jedi Council to help him...  
  
Concentrating, Obi Wan screwed his eyes up. He decided that he really needed a bath. It had been over seven hours since he last had had the opportunity to bathe, and already he thought that a slight incense of sweat came pouring into his nose, directly from his armpits. Disgusted, he turned his nose up and decided to bath at the next opportunity, whatever that might be. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter where.  
  
Obi Wan was walking through the scorching heat that was special to Tatooine's desert. Strictly speaking, he was not supposed to be here at all. He was supposed to be on Coruscant, to receive an update on his mission and collect new instructions. Somehow, though, he had been pulled to Tatooine.  
  
After five more steps, the odour was more than Obi Wan could bear. He pulled the compact Deodorant-Spray out of his pocket and thoroughly supplied his armpits with manly smelling deodorant. Having done that, he felt much better, being able to breathe normally again. But to late! The smell of sweat had already attracted dozens of animals. In a very short time, Obi Wan was surrounded by his worst nightmare. Flies.  
  
He feverishly searched for his weapon, but when he found it, he had to discover that his insect spray had run out. Obi Wan panicked, and sent out a powerful force-push to get rid of his opponents. They died immediately, and Obi Wan stopped, looking scared. What had he done?  
  
This was not the light side of the force; it was something completely different. It was darker. more evil. What now? Obi Wan thought in shock. He decided to phone his twin brother.  
  
A dark, cruel voice answered the Comm. "James Bond. Unfortunately I am not in at the moment (because I'm taking a bath). Please leave your message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible (or not)."  
  
Obi Wan rolled his eyes.  
  
"James," he said. "Stop being childish, I know you're there."  
  
"He-theta!" James growled discontentedly. "Make it short, I'm in the bathtub. And I still need to polish my nails."  
  
Obi Wan looked at the Comm with envy. This was just unfair! He wanted to have a bath as well, and this arrogant idiot of brother was able to. He decided to bathe at the next opportunity, whatever that might be. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter where.  
  
"What's the matter?" his brother's voice asked. "You still there?"  
  
"Yes!" Obi Wan cried, and silenced again, at a loss of words.  
  
"Idiot," James growled. "We're not at the pantomime. And my water will get cold, if you decide to keep your silence up for much longer."  
  
Obi Wan defiantly looked at the Comm. This was unfair. It was not his fault that he was not as intelligent as his brother.  
  
"This is getting ridiculous," James said. "You have exactly one minute to tell me whatever you wanted to tell me in the first place, and then I'll pay full attention to my beauty care again."  
  
"I'm bored," Obi Wan whined. "And I'm hot. And there are thousands of insects buggering me."  
  
"Ugh," his brother's oily voice remarked. "Insects. Why aren't you using insect spray? As for the heat - just take a bath, and then everything will be all right. Oh, this reminds me - my water is getting cold. Have fun in the desert."  
  
Click.  
  
Indignantly, Obi Wan stared at the Comm in his hand. He had hung up! Just like this! This was not fair! He decided to bathe at the next opportunity, whatever that might be. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter where.  
  
He took another five steps, and the odour came up again. Obi Wan sighed, and unpacked his deodorant again. He gave his armpits a good spray.  
  
Another five steps, and he could smell it again.  
  
"That's it!" Obi Wan cried. Seemingly, his deodorant would not work in the desert. He had to use something more drastic. From his other pocket, he pulled out the Armpit Glue Ultra. He glued a sheet to each shoulder.  
  
Tentatively, he took five more steps and sniffed. Nothing. Relieved, Obi Wan continued on his way.  
  
He noticed that the heat was increasing, and soon the familiar odour came up again.  
  
"That, my friends, is enough," Obi Wan told his armpits. "You seem to think that you always get special treatment, huh? Well, not with me, my friends!"  
  
Worked up, he took out his entire Armpit Glue Ultra content and distributed the adhesive sheets evenly between his armpits.  
  
Like this, he was able to continue undisturbed on his way, when he entered a large canyon. Obi Wan looked around, eyebrows raised in confusion. What was he doing here anyway? Why was he here and not in Coruscant? So many questions.  
  
Obi Wan rested on a rock and pondered.  
  
He came up with the explanation that he must have followed some strange feeling. A call of the force?  
  
"But I've already been here, with Qui Gon," Obi Wan muttered unhappily. "You would think that once is enough, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Oh, not at all, Obi Wan Kenobi," someone behind him said.  
  
Alarmed, Obi Wan leaped up. In flowing motion, he had drawn his lightsaber and cleanly sliced his opponent in two pieces. Or at least he thought so, until he heard the voice again.  
  
"Really, Obi Wan," the Voice mocked him. "I would have thought that a Jedi was more of a passive fighter and had control over his actions."  
  
Obi Wan was getting really angry. Who did this two-sliced marionette think he was to tell him that he did not have control over his actions? He had had enough trouble with his armpits, didn't he?  
  
"That's enough, dear friend! First my armpits keep annoying me, then I can't find a place to take a bath, and now some stupid, invisible . thing comes here to annoy me . or whatever! Anyway, I'm sure this is all your fault!"  
  
Having said that, Obi Wan furiously raised his hand with the lightsaber again. He sliced the air like a berserker. Hoots of laughter answered him, and Obi Wan paused in his chopping and slicing and indignantly looked in the direction of the sound. He could feel, or rather, smell, the presence of his opponent. This invisible guy, whoever it was, apparently did not care about body care.  
  
"Why are you laughing at me?" Obi Wan asked, completely baffled. "Anyway, how about you using a deodorant? This smell is unbearable!"  
  
Obi Wan held a gloved hand over mouth and nose to escape the smell, which seemed to be increasing in intensity.  
  
"Really, you should take a bath! This is repulsive!"  
  
The invisible did not respond, but the smell was still there. Obi Wan sniffed. Could it be? But he had already.  
  
"Again?" Obi Wan asked his armpits, incredulous. "You seem to never get enough! So you want the hard tour? All right then!"  
  
He fished in his pockets, and emerged with a tube of All-Purpose Glue Super- Ultra. Satisfied, he nodded his head. Then he began, slowly and thoroughly, to spread the glue in his armpits.  
  
"So, you're done!" he cried happily and ungracefully slumped on the rock again.  
  
Why was it that he was here? Well, probably it wasn't that important.  
  
Obi Wan looked around again. On second thought, the canyon looked rather nice compared to the desert - it had the huge advantage of providing shadows. He decided that he was hungry now, and searched his pockets. He found nothing.  
  
"But that's impossible!" Obi Wan shouted at all the rocks around him. "I know that I've taken my food with me, and I'm hungry!" "Hungry --- hungry -- - hungry," the rocks echoed.  
  
Obi Wan buried his head in his hands. Great, he was all alone in the desert and had forgotten to take his lunch with him. Suddenly, he started. Of course, great moron that he was! Of course he had not forgotten his lunch at home! With a thankful sigh, Obi Wan heaved his backpack from his shoulders and produced his Mickey-Mouse lunchbox.  
  
Hungrily, he consumed the food.  
  
"Now I need a little bit of rest," he told the rocks. "Please look after my belongings, OK?"  
  
He was so grateful that Qui Gon had taught him on the living force! Otherwise, he would never have known that he could, just like that, without anybody to look after him, take a nap. But the rocks, anything really, was connected with him through the Force. Obi Wan smiled happily and crouched into a tiny ball. Nothing could happen to him.  
  
  
  
  
  
So, that was Chapter 1! If I get five reviews, I´ll post chapter 2! 


	2. Health Check

1 Disclaimer: We don't own anything except the plot, Pipsy and Armpit Glue Ultra.  
  
A/N: Sorry that it took us so long to write this, we kind of seemed to have a massive case of writer's block plus there was school (duh) to prepare for. Hopefully the next chapter will be up more quickly.  
  
Enjoy and review (pleeeez!)  
  
  
  
2 Chapter 2- Health Check  
  
By Shazirah & Nanyrah  
  
  
  
"Yes, your highness?", James drawled into the speaker of his Comm. Queen Amidala looked at the receiver, irritated. Who did this spy think he was, speaking to her like that?  
  
"James," she said. "I have just received the results from your latest health check, and it doesn't look good at all. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you on the Comm. It is too horrible. Please come to my rooms at once."  
  
James scratched his belly uneasily. What could this be? After all, he was physically perfect, wasn't he? Not to mention that he was mentally perfect as well… Concerned, he cut the connection without acknowledging Amidala's command. But before he could turn up anywhere, he had to take care of his looks. Half an hour would probably suffice for this occasion.  
  
Half an hour later, James left his flat, content that he looked all right. But as soon as he had left the door, he had to discover that, to his shock and greatest concern, he had forgotten how to get to the palace. How embarrassing! Now what should he do to get out of this situation unscratched? It was downright impossible to as a passer-by, because that would ruin his reputation for certain. In his despair, he settled on calling Obi Wan. He would know what to do.  
  
A dark, cruel voice answered the Comm. "Obi Wan Kenobi. Unfortunately I am not in at the moment (because I'm sleeping). Please leave your message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible (or not)."  
  
James rolled his eyes. "Obi Wan," he said. "Stop being childish, I know you're there."  
  
"He-theta!" Obi Wan growled discontentedly. "Make it short, I'm in sleeping. And I still need to find someplace to bathe."  
  
James raised an eyebrow, irritated. He was sure that he had heard this conversation before, but he could not place where. He decided to ignore it for the moment and continue as normal.  
  
"What's the matter?" his brother's voice asked. "You still there? Please make it short, I still need to find someplace to bathe."  
  
James raised his second eyebrow as well, but then smirked unpleasantly. He had almost forgotten that his idiot brother was still in the desert.  
  
"So," he drawled. "Apparently you still haven't gotten around to clean your body. How … disgusting, I don't want to imagine the smell!"  
  
Obi Wan defiantly looked at the Comm. This was just unfair! He did want to have a bath, after all. He decided to bathe at the next opportunity, whatever that might be. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter where.  
  
"You still there?" James asked. "You could do me a little favour."  
  
At these words, Obi Wan's attention shot up from 0 to 100. So James was having trouble? "Any difficulties, dearest brother?" he asked, trying in vain to keep his voice free of satisfaction.  
  
"Me? Difficulties? These words don't go together, you know," James said, panic rising. But before Obi Wan could think of any good retort, James noticed that the palace gates were directly in front of him. How convenient, it seemed that he had wandered there whilst talking to idiot brother.  
  
Grunting in content, he cut the connection and marched, ignoring the stares of the palace guard, to Queen Amidala's rooms.  
  
  
  
In the meantime, Amidala's annoyance was rising to a peak. She was seething with rage. Who did this idiot spy think he was? You did not let a Queen wait! Angrily, she stomped her foot, and, barely missing the small ant that was crawling on the floor (she did hate to hurt anything living, after all) crushed her pet mouse.  
  
"Oh no, how terrible!" she cried as she became aware of the extent of her gruesome deed. "Pipsy, please say something!" The unrecognisable red mass on the floor was beginning to spread over the polished marble.  
  
Luckily, she had her little dustpan, her loyal dustpan that had served on many similar occasions, right in the cupboard under the stairs. Just as she was carrying the loaded dustpan to the bin, James entered.  
  
"Here I am, your Highness," he said impatiently. He was a busy man, after all. "What's the matter?" Amidala's rage boiled over. "What's the matter? What's the matter?" she cried. "This is the matter!" she screeched, throwing her dustpan in James's direction. The contents flew out and covered his face.  
  
"Eeew," James drawled, cleaning his face from the remains of Pipsy. The whole make-up had been unnecessary. "May I ask what this – thing – is?"  
  
Amidala was speechless. This ignorant – bastard – did not know who Pipsy was? Her loyal pet mouse, who had been in her service for at least two days? Her face colour changed from an angry white to a very angry red.  
  
James looked at her in confusion. Maybe it was not he who was ill, but the queen? "Eehm," he began cautiously. "Are you feeling all right, your highness?"  
  
Amidala opened her mouth before thinking of a good retort, and therefore closed it again. She racked her brain for something to say, and there it was. "No, I am fine, thank you," she growled. "I am fine, of course two people who were very close to me have died recently, but no, I am fine."  
  
"Huh?" James asked. "And who might that be, if I may ask?"  
  
Now Amidala was getting even angrier. He did now know? "Pipsy, of course!" She screamed at him. "And Anakin!"  
  
"Aah, Anakin," James said scornfully. It was annoying enough that she had ordered that statues of him were to be put up everywhere around the palace, in memorial. But now she started talking of him again. He was beginning to suspect that all had been a manoeuvre to find somebody she could pester with her talk of Anakin. But she could not outwit him, him, James Bond! After all, he was the best spy of all time.  
  
"Anakin was gay and useless anyway," he drawled. "Plus he was never the one to keep himself clean. I cannot begin to imagine why you are so upset that he is, ah, gone. He had a crush on Obi Wan anyway." He did not think it worth mentioning that his death was due to a little accident on his behalf. He originally had wanted to poison this annoying bodyguard of Amidala's, this what-was-his-name, oh yes, Panaka. But when the cyanide in the food had instead gone to Anakin, he had not been unhappy either.  
  
"Anyway," he said. "What was it again you wanted to talk to me about?"  
  
Amidala was speechless from fury. He had accused Anakin, her dear Ani, of being gay. Everybody knew that he was not gay. How could he, after all he and her were meant to be together. A fortuneteller on Tatooine had told her this, and everybody knew that fortunetellers were always right.  
  
"Damn it!" she screamed. "If you are not respectful of the living, at least pay some respect to the dead! Blast, you really are annoying me!" And to add some weight to her words, she jumped on James's toe, putting behind her whole mass of 55 kg.  
  
"Uuuhhaii!" James screamed. "Have you gone crazy?"  
  
Angrily, Amidala jumped again. But when she heard James's cry of dismay, she suddenly snapped back to reality, and, realising what she had done, she broke down and began to cry. "Please forgive me," she sobbed. "Anakin would not have wanted me to act like this…"  
  
James rolled his eyes. There she went again, going on about Anakin. "That's all right," he grumbled.  
  
"Good, that's that sorted," Amidala said and rose from the floor. "Now let's talk about the really important things. Your health check. You might want to sit down, this is not good news."  
  
James rolled his eyes again. It could not be that bad now could it? Gracefully, he settled on one of the chairs.  
  
"Right, I am very sorry that it has come to this," Amidala said. "I really should have paid more attention to your health. Well, how can I put this – James, you are overweight," she whispered, barely audible.  
  
Pale with fright, James slumped back in his chair. "Oh no," he whispered.  
  
"Oh yes," Amidala said. "But I have already decided what to do about this. Everything is sorted."  
  
"Well, that's relieving," James sighed. "What are we going to do about it? Fitness centre? A diet?"  
  
"Oh no, nothing of that kind," Amidala said. "It is much, much more efficient. You are going to be sent to a training camp."  
  
"Oh, no!" James gasped. "Anything but that!"  
  
"I am sorry," Amidala repeated, "but everything is settled. Your belongings are packed, and the transport will leave in an hour. I am sending you to the training camp for my bodyguards. I am very sure that you will loose your additional weight there very quickly, and it will do you good anyway."  
  
"Sniff," James said. "I see I have no choice in this matter." Suddenly the desert seemed like a very nice place to be, and he thought enviously of Obi Wan. "My brother is in the desert and needs help," he said.  
  
"Oh no he doesn't," Amidala replied, looking at him reproachfully.  
  
"Well well, all right then," James growled. "He-theta!"  
  
He stormed outside, seething with fury and cultivating satisfying thoughts of revenge. 


End file.
